


Don't Go Drawing Conclusions

by YukinoKoe



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Jester's Sketchbook, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 21:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13749909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukinoKoe/pseuds/YukinoKoe
Summary: Jester is being more suspicious than usual with her sketchbook. Caleb's curiosity gets the better of him, and when he sees what Jester had been drawing, he can't hold himself back.





	Don't Go Drawing Conclusions

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm... I have so many other obligations. I shouldn't have been working on this. But dammit, I had to.

With the current state of their party funds, the rag-tag group of adventurers wasn’t opposed to a free room at a local inn when offered. The beds were cramped and stiff, and the proximity of everyone was stifling. Beau and Molly once again claimed the floor, stating the expanse of hardwood floor was preferable to squeezing in next to Fjord or dealing with Jester’s kicking. It wasn’t too late into the night yet, so Molly, Nott, and Fjord were out at the bar while Beau, Jester, and Caleb relaxed in the room. From his seat where he was reading under the window, Caleb could see Beau relaxing on the bed, lavishing in the time she’d have it all to herself, as well as Jester, giggling suspiciously as she hunched over her sketchbook at the small table in the corner.

Curiously, Caleb stood and walked over to where Jester was sketching, tilting his neck to try to look over her shoulder. “Dare I ask what has you giggling like a little devil?” he asked, trying to see what exactly the trickster was doing.

Jester’s cheeks tinged slightly purple, and she slammed the sketchbook closed. “Hasn't anyone told you it’s rude to intrude on a girl’s private time, Caleb?” she grinned. Yet, there was something unusual about that smile; it wasn’t the same careless grin Jester constantly wore. There was a hint of tension as the corners of her lips.

Caleb sighed and scratched at the back of his head. “Nevermind. Forget that I asked.” 

“Unless you want to see what I’ve got in my super-secret sketchbook. I didn’t know you were so naughty, Caleb,” she grinned, tension releasing from her face as she wiggled her eyebrows.

“When you put it like that, I’m definitely not interested,” Caleb’s brows furrowed. He slipped back under the window, returning to his book. Jester stood, smoothing her skirt, and rushed to the side of the bed, grabbing Beau’s arm. “C’mon, Beau! Let’s go get drinks with all this gold we have!”

“I was just getting comfortable,” Beau relented with a grunt, pulled from the bed by Jester. The trickster glanced at Caleb, her implacable smirk curling with catlike suspiciousness. “Have fun, Caleb. Be a good boy while you’re here alone with no one watching.”

The girls left the room with a dull thud of wood hitting the frame. Caleb rolled his eyes, knowing Jester was trying to get him to snoop. But he wouldn’t be swayed into falling for an obvious trap.

Would he?

The look on Jester’s face lingered in his mind: the uncharacteristic embarrassment tempting him to find out what Jester could have been drawing to merit unusual behavior from the typically unfazed trickster. Caleb replaced the ribbon bookmark and set the tome on the windowsill. He glanced towards the door before pulling out the wooden chair, shuddering as the legs scraped loudly across the hardwood floor. Jester’s sketchbook lay innocently on the table, its cover slightly bent from use and travel. Loose parchment stuck out at the corners where Jester had likely stuffed drawings into her book. Gingerly, Caleb picked up the sketchbook and started from the back where he’d likely find her latest drawing that had piqued his curiosity to this extent. He flipped through blank pages until he was about halfway through the book, when he found the sketch Jester had last been working on.

He nearly dropped the sketchbook when he saw what he was looking for.

On the page was an incredibly detailed – and even more so incredibly lewd – drawing of Fjord and himself. Caleb was propped up on his knees, seated on Fjord’s cock with a lustful expression. The wizard’s own cock pressed against his flat stomach, nestled in a bed of sketchy curls. His chest puffed out slightly with the arch of his back, chin resting against his lightly freckled chest. Fjord’s head peeked from behind Caleb, kissing the juncture of his neck. His hands pressed into the dips of Caleb’s hips, softly shaded under the pressure of his digits. Fjord’s legs were still sketchy, but based on the lines, he could tell he was sitting on the edge of a bed. Caleb’s heart pounded as he looked at the drawing. If nothing else, Jester definitely had talent. But it was certainly more than just “nothing else.”

Caleb’s knees quivered slightly, his own cock stirring eagerly against his trousers. Nervously, he continued to flip backwards, passing sketches of dead monsters making out and corner doodles of dicks and donuts. A couple pages back was another drawing of himself and Fjord, their cocks pressed together in Fjord’s wide grip. A couple pages before that was another drawing, and another before that. Caleb’s cock strained against his pants as he looked at a painfully realistic sketch of Fjord fucking him into a plush mattress, his legs wrapped around the warlock’s back. 

Caleb’s breath was shallow and needy. This wouldn’t be the first time he had considered Fjord in a romantic light. Everyone in their adventuring party knew Fjord was attractive (aside from possibly Fjord himself). What he didn’t understand was Jester’s fascination with the two of them as a unit. He could understand the fascination if it was infatuation on her part (at least, for Fjord), but her interest in the two men together seemed more voyeuristic than he would have expected.

He wasn’t sure when he slipped his cock from beneath the laces of his pants and started mindlessly palming the length. He bit his lower lip as he pressed his thumb along the underside of the head, his eyes fixated on the shading of Fjord’s broad back. His mind wandered, imagining the warlock above him: Caleb with his hair splayed across the pillow and eyes blown with ecstasy while Fjord’s released low, honeyed grunts that punctuated every thrust of his thick, green cock. Caleb’s breath rattled as pre-come beaded at the tip, biting back moans for fear of being heard beyond the thin walls of the inn.

Loud footsteps moved towards the door, drawing closer with each creak of wooden floorboards. With some difficulty, Caleb hastily shoved himself back into his pants, hiding his obvious arousal with his forearms. He hoped whoever was there wouldn’t be able to smell the heady musk he was almost assuredly radiating, and for once was thankful he was known for having a less-than-pleasant odor. The door to the room slowly clicked open, and the man he had just been picturing contorted in pleasure over him stepped through the threshold. “Caleb?” Fjord asked softly. “Jester said you wanted to see me. Is everything okay?”

Caleb cursed internally, leaning forward on his arms to continue to hide his arousal. “I am not sure why she would have said that. I’m absolutely fine,” he grimaced, hoping Fjord would leave.

Instead, the warlock moved a bit closer, concern lacing his handsome features. “You don’t look so good. Everything okay?”

Fjord was approaching Caleb and the table. From the corner of Caleb’s eye, he could see the sketchbook on the table, open to the drawing of himself with his legs around Fjord as the warlock fucked him. Panicked, Caleb reached his arms out to try to keep Fjord from coming closer. “Fjord, wait!”

The warlock froze in place, eyes drifting downwards. Caleb swallowed audibly, knowing what Fjord could see. His face burned with shame, and Fjord’s face was tinged with a brown flush from the bridge of his nose to the tips of his ears. Caleb clutched his arms uncomfortably, knees locked together. The only sound was his haggard breathing as he pulled his thighs up to his chest 

“Caleb,” the warlock eventually spoke, his voice drier and huskier than usual. The wizard pulled back, his head tucked into his shoulders like a cornered cat, unsure of where to go. He wanted to run, but running only meant facing the tavern, which would definitely be worse for his social anxiety. Fjord continued to close the gap between them, moving closer. Closer. Close enough to see the open page of the sketchbook and the lewd drawing Caleb had been fixated on. Caleb could feel his shame radiating from every pore, quivering with every step Fjord took closer to him. How he wished he could go invisible at this very moment and run away. Caleb couldn’t bring his body to move even though he wanted to snap the book shut so Fjord couldn’t see the image. But the book lay bare on the table, open for Fjord to see its salacious secrets. Fjord glanced at the book, head cocked to one side and let out an audible gulp between his own shaky breathing. “Caleb…” he said again, even lower than before.

“Please, Fjord. Don’t…” Caleb murmured, his voice wavering and tears biting at his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Fjord knelt down in front of Caleb, hands pressed against his knees, with a look of earnest. “There…” he started, nervously. “There ain’t nothing to be sorry for, Caleb. I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with my own selfishness.”

“Selfish how?” Caleb whispered, peeking down at Fjord from the tops of his knees.

“Seeing you riled up like that, looking at Jester’s sketchbook, is doing things to me,” Fjord murmured sheepishly. His thumbs strummed back and forth against his knees in attempt to quell his palpable nervous energy. Fjord shifted on his knees and coughed into a closed fist, golden eyes cast downwards and away from Caleb. “I wanna take care of you, Caleb. Would you… let me suck you off?”

Caleb could feel his cock twitch hungrily against his thighs at Fjord’s words, and he had to bite back a moan that threatened to escape. “Fjord,” he croaked out, his tongue heavy in his mouth making it difficult to speak. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to.” Fjord cut him off, jolting forward. Caleb flinched at the sudden movement, and Fjord leaned back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to make you uncomfortable. I’ll just get going then.”

“Don’t go,” Caleb whimpered, moving his legs back down. “I want you so badly it burns, Fjord. I just… What if someone walks in?”

Fjord inched closer to Caleb’s knees. “Didn’t seem like anyone had any plans to leave the bar anytime soon. But we’ll make it quick.” He moved his hands up to the waistband of Caleb’s trousers, and when his fingers were only a hair’s breadth away from dipping below the already loosened laces when he looked up to Caleb in earnest. “I won’t touch you until you say yes.”

“Yes,” Caleb breathed out without even a moment’s hesitation. “Please, Fjord.”

Green fingers dipped beneath Caleb’s pants and smallclothes, pulling them down his thighs. and letting the wizard’s cock spring free like a wound coil. Fjord pressed hungry kisses to the base near the nest of ginger curls, running his tongue up along the underside of the shaft. Caleb’s moans were little more than squeaks, and he gripped the underside of the wooden chair so tightly that if the wood had any give, he would have made several small round indentations. Fjord held his body in place, palms pressed flat against his bony hips. He shifted Caleb’s body forward for a better angle before craning his neck and taking the already leaking tip of Caleb’s arousal into his mouth. “Scheiße…” Caleb cursed, voice cracking with another moan as Fjord inched his lips down his shaft, hollowing his cheeks. Fjord drew his head back before pushing back down again, taking Caleb even further into his mouth. Caleb drew his hand up to his own lips, biting his knuckles to prevent his keening from echoing into the hall. 

Fjord let go of one of Caleb’s hips and dipped it between his own thighs. Caleb could hear the rustle of clothing as Fjord shifted against his legs. He could hear a soft slap of skin against skin, and Fjord hummed pleasurably, vibrations hitting against the head of Caleb’s cock. Fjord was touching himself while giving Caleb a blow job. Even though Caleb couldn’t see beyond the top of Fjord’s head, the mental image sent his mind wild, and he let out a languid moan. Fjord coughed slightly as pre-come dripped onto his tongue, but recovered quickly, pulling his head back to eagerly lap at the weeping tip. Caleb couldn’t hold his voice back much longer, and he moaned, “Fjord, I don’t think I can last too much longer.”

“Hands. Hair,” Fjord ordered, tilting his head forward. Caleb weaved his hands into the hair at the crown of the warlock’s head, and Fjord dove forward again, slowly working his way down the wizard’s length until the tip hit the back of his throat. Fjord gagged slightly before regaining composure, bobbing along Caleb as he fucked his own throat. Caleb couldn’t take it anymore, grip on Fjord’s scalp tightening as he cried out, “Fjord, I can’t… I’m going to…”

As if a taut string had snapped inside him, Caleb moaned, sending a spurt of come into Fjord’s mouth. The warlock closed his eyes and groaned in pleasure as Caleb spilled, come dripping out as his lips slacked. Caleb could feel Fjord shudder against his calves as the sound of Fjord pumping his own cock slowed. Tilting his head back, Fjord swallowed, grimacing. “Not really the best taste in the world, but I’ve definitely had worse salty fluids in my mouth.”

“I’m sorry,” Caleb flushed, letting his hands fall loosely to his sides. He gestured downwards with his chin, looking at Fjord with blown-out glassy eyes. “Do you need me to, um, your…”

“I took care of it, but thanks,” Fjord smiled. He pushed himself upward, bringing the hand that had been pressed against Caleb’s hip the whole time up to the wizard’s brow, pushing sweaty, reddish-brown locks out of his eyes. “And don’t you dare say you’re sorry. That was one of the best damn things I’ve done in a long while. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I’m more upset that I couldn’t return the favor,” Caleb replied, smiling weakly.

“In due time, darlin’,” Fjord responded, gently thumbing over Caleb’s temple. He leaned forward and kissed Caleb’s brow. “For now, lemme get you cleaned up.”

Fjord pulled away, leaving the space around Caleb cold and empty. As the warlock searched through his backpack for his waterskin and a couple of washrags, Caleb slumped as if boneless in the hard, wooden chair. “Fjord,” he asked when the warlock returned, pouring water onto the washcloth and using it to clean off the mess he had made of Caleb’s lower body. “Did you know about Jester’s sketches?”

Fjord’s movements halted, and he averted his eyes. “Yes,” he responded after several quiet seconds. “I’ve known about them for a bit.” Caught her working on one after you asked about inspecting my sword. She’s suspicious of my attraction, which is probably why she asked me to check on you tonight.” He smiled, setting the soiled washrag aside to rinse later before wetting another for himself. “I guess I’ll have to thank her later. She’ll never know what for though.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she figures it out,” Caleb groaned anxiously, holding his face in his hands. “She’s a cunning trickster. Jester would be the last person I would want privy to my personal affairs, but I don’t seem to have a choice in the matter, do I?”

Fjord finished cleaning himself off and resituated his clothes. He stood and moved over to Caleb, leaning down to cup the wizard’s face in his hands. “You’ve got me. If she bothers you, I’ll deal with it. If that’s okay with you, I mean. Remember, I told you we’ll make it work, and I meant it. For the party and for us. Okay?”

Caleb nodded, leaning into one of Fjord’s hands. “Okay. I trust you.”


End file.
